


The Real Monsters

by EFIL4NAMXOV



Category: Scooby-Doo and the Ghoul School (1988)
Genre: Angst and Humor, Character Development, Characters have issues, Edgelord becomes decent person, Fluff and Angst, Fluff and Humor, Might get into some heavier stuff, Non-Graphic Violence, Original Character(s), Slapstick, Substance Abuse, Swearing, Teaching
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-10-19
Updated: 2020-10-28
Packaged: 2021-03-08 21:34:54
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 6,089
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27093637
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/EFIL4NAMXOV/pseuds/EFIL4NAMXOV
Summary: Hello, boys and ghouls! I watched the OK KO: Let's Be Heroes episode "Monster Party," in which the cult-favorite monster girls from "Scooby-Doo and the Ghoul School" made a guest appearance after a 30 year absence from the spotlight. Watching this episode, and seeing how well these characters played out in a modern setting, I felt inspired to write my own story about an unsuspecting main character's macabre misadventures as he finds himself educating a class of creepy, kooky, mysterious and spooky characters.
Relationships: Original Male Character(s)/Original Non-Binary Character(s)
Comments: 24
Kudos: 8





	1. Intro

It was an unpleasantly overcast morning in rural New England as our protagonist hurried into the back of the Uber sent for him. The pavement was slick from the incessant rainfall as a powerful wind shook the leaves loose from the treetops, scattering red and yellow foliage hither and thither as lightning crackled in the distance. As soon as the door was closed, the electric blue Nissan took off into the distance, jerking heavily over every crack and pothole in the long, winding road.

"So, guess we're taking the long way, huh?" George Hunter Russo looked up with tired eyes at the driver, who paid him no mind as he continued on his way, the GPS barely audible over the ad blaring on the radio. "Not that I mind, of course."

Russo was a caucasian man of average height and build, although with some hints of muscle tone. His hair was a feathered, purple-dyed mullet, and his face was adorned with a short, black, neatly-trimmed beard. Aside from his reflective sunglasses and green-and-silver Boston Celtics jersey, his ensemble was mostly black, with a knee-length duster, cargo pants, and leather gloves and boots.

"You say something, man?" The driver, a muscular white guy with a crew cut and Oakley sunglasses, looked in his rearview mirror at his customer.

"It's nothing," Russo said with a wave of his hand. "Just... try to make it quick, will ya? The sooner I get this death march over with, the better."

The driver cast a glance at the GPS' destination. "'Grimwood's Finishing School for Girls,' huh? There a story behind that?"

"If you've got the patience for it," Russo responded, the eastern New England accent heavy on his lips. "So, a couple months ago, I _might've_ gotten myself in a bit of trouble when I drove a forklift through a Wendy's drive thru -- by which I mean I drove it _through the window itself_ and the wall surrounding it. I don't see why anyone made such a big deal out of it. I mean, I didn't kill nobody -- well, I fucked one guy up pretty bad, but he was a racist douche bag and probably a pedophile based on what everyone else was saying about him, so I ain't exactly losing sleep over it.

"Now, you'd think they'd have locked me up til I was dead for pulling a stunt like that, but fortunately, I got a smart lawyer, and he managed to convince them to give me community service instead. So, they decided to have me spend a year teaching at Grimwood's School before they call it even."

"Wait a minute." The driver turned off the radio just as "Push" by Matchbox 20 had come on. "So, you drove a forklift through a building, and they're letting you off the hook if you spend a year around kids?"

Russo held up his hands. "Hey, don't look at me. It ain't my fault judges are fucking stupid. Anyway, I figured, what the hell? How hard could it be?"

The driver took a sharp turn. "Do you know anything about this school?"

"What's there to know?" Russo shrugged. "I have 'em read _1984_ , teach 'em about magnets or some shit, have 'em play dodgeball, bada-bing bada-boom. You've been to high school, haven't you?"

"If I went to high school, I wouldn't be a 40-year-old white man working as an Uber driver during the day," the driver replied.

"What the fuck ever, man. Y'know what I meant." Russo clasped his hands together as he waited for their destination to arrive, humming along to the music as the driver turned the radio back on. "I wanna take you for granted, well I will... story of my fucking life."

The Nissan jerked to a stop. "We're here. Get the fuck out." The driver unlocked the doors.

Russo exited and looked at the building in front of him. It appeared to be an old, gothic mansion with a drawbridge and a moat. The car sped off as the drawbridge dropped open, coming within a hair's breadth of flattening the young man before it. "Looks like some kinda theme park funhouse," Russo mused as he crossed the bridge."I'll give it a chance, but if some prick in a hockey mask and chainsaw jumps out at me, I'm getting the fuck out. As he crossed the drawbridge, he saw two sharks glowering at him from the moat. Not paying them a second thought, he flipped them off and continued on his way.

Once he got across, Russo moved to open the door, only for it to open by itself. "Wow, a creepy old mansion with doors that open by itself. How original." He paid this no mind, assuming his coffee at Dunkin Donuts must've been laced with something, as he entered the building. He didn't notice the front door closing behind him, nor the disembodied, white-gloved hand holding the knob. He was instead focusing on the checkerboard-pattern floors, as well as the miniature gargoyle statues on pillars and suits of medieval armor lining the foyer in front of him.

He ventured forward, hoping for someone to come and greet him. "Hello?" He heard small footsteps coming down the staircase in front of him. "Yo, you wanna explain to me what I'm supposed to be doing here?" Instead of any human, Russo was greeted by a small creature with red eyes and lime green scales. It was about two feet tall and seemed to be reptilian in nature, but it had a barbed tail, and its round head was adorned with two small horns and a small tuft of dark green hair. 

Russo eyed the little creature as it approached him and gave him a contemptuous stare. "What're you supposed to be? Some kinda failed science experiment?" He removed his sunglasses -- revealing his turquoise eyes -- to get a better look at the bizarre little reptile.

Growling, the creature emitted a plume of fire from his mouth, causing Russo to drop the glasses on the floor as they melted into nothing. "Hey, I spent an entire paycheck on those, you little prick!" He ducked just in time to dodge another blast of flame. Russo jumped to the side and grabbed a sword being held by one of the suits of armor. "You wanna throw down, ya little puke stain? I will _NOT_ hesitate!"

They were interrupted by a middle-aged woman's voice. "Matches," she called out. "Come here!" The small creature turned and scurried toward the voice. A stockily-built woman in her late fifties descended the staircase; she was rather pale with short black hair, and wore a pink dress with red shoes, a red hairband, and a red cape with white skull bracers. "Oh, you must be Mr Russo! I'm so glad you could come."

"Yeah, yeah, it's no problem," Russo said as he dropped the sword. "That little friend of yours makes quite the welcoming committee."

"Oh, I'm sorry," the woman said. "This is Matches, my pet dragon." She picked the little dragon up as it started to nuzzle her. "Oh, where are my manners? Miss Grimwood, Headmistress of this fine Academy at your service."

"The pleasure's mine," Russo said as he shook her hand. "Now, whereabout's the class I'll be teaching? My freedom ain't gonna earn itself."

At that moment, a purple bat flew down the staircase and hovered in the air above the two humans. "Here's one of my students now," Miss Grimwood said as she gestured to the bat.

"You keep bats here?" Russo smirked. "I thought they only did that in Australia."

The bat then turned into a person -- a slender teenage girl with green eyes, light purple skin, and long, dark purple hair. She wore red shoes, teal eyeliner, red lipstick, and a long-sleeved, floor-length purple dress. "Fang-tastic to meet you, Mr. Russo," she said in a high, slightly raspy voice. "I'm Sibella, daughter of Count Dracula himself."

"Wait... _the_ Dracula?" Russo wasn't sure if he believed it. "Quick question: who was more accurate in portraying him, Bela Lugosi or Christopher Lee?"

"I have no idea who those people are," Sibella responded.

"Christ, what do they _teach_ kids these days?" Before Russo could say anything more, a howl echoed throughout the building. he looked over and saw a little werewolf girl standing on a chair and howling at the moon through an open window.

She had light brown fur, curly orange hair, yellow eyes, and a blue dress. 

"And this would be Winnie," Miss Grimwood said. "Come on down and meet your new teacher, Winnie!"

"Hell- _oooo_ ," Winnie howled as she approached.

"A werewolf, eh?" Russo cast a glance at Winnie. "Didn't I just see one drinking a piña colada at Trader Vic's?"

"His hair was perfect," Winnie said, completing the lyric as she slicked her hair back with one clawed hand.

" _Thank you,_ " Russo said. "Least _someone_ gets my references." He turned back toward the others, only to see another, taller teenage girl lumbering towards him with her arms stretched in front of him. She had pale green skin that was covered in thick stitches, her tall black hair had white streaks going up the sides, and she had bolts sticking out of her neck. On a less dramatic note, she had beady black eyes and freckles. She wore a dark green sleeveless jumper with a yellow-green undershirt, a blue belt, and brown platform sandals. 

She stopped and greeted Russo. "I'm Elsa Frankenteen," she said in a low, boyish voice.

"Okay, this is getting confusing," Russo said. "I can understand kids being vampires and werewolves, but a Franken-monster? Like, were you born like that, or did you die and have to get brought back?"

"If you want, I can tell you my life story, but it'll traumatize you for life," Elsa said happily.

"Try me," Russo said confidently. "You're talking to a guy who's seen every _Nightmare on Elm Street_ movie 11 times."

"We'll save the stories for another time," Miss Grimwood said. "Let's just get you to your room."

"Yes, of course," Russo said as he tried to process everything he had just witnessed in the last five minutes. "Just... y'mind if I take a look around the place first? Gotta familiarize myself with the surroundings and all that."

"Be my guest," Miss Grimwood replied pleasantly.

Russo strolled down a nearby hallway, opening a large door leading to what looked like a torture cellar. "Looks pretty secluded," he said. He then reached in his coat pocket, pulling out a lighter and a joint. "I'll just have a few puffs to take the edge off, then meet the others."

Before he could, he saw a strange apparition materialize from the wall. The apparition took the form of a wide-eyed teenage girl with blue-gray skin and white, forward-swept hair with a blue streak in the middle, She wore a short-sleeved blue dress and white Beatle boots.

"Five seconds to myself is all I ask," Russo grumbled as he put the items away.

"Hi," the ghost girl greeted in a high, squeaky voice. "I'm Phantasma!" She flew over to a nearby pipe organ. "You wanna hear me play?"

"Depends," Russo said. "You know any King Crimson?"

"Glad you asked!" Phantasma cracked her knuckles (somehow) and she hammered on the keys, playing the first few notes of "21st Century Schizoid Man."

"It just works," Russo said to himself with a smile. For a dead person, Phantasma was pretty damn good. 

Phantasma stopped after a few more seconds. "Got any other requests?"

"In a minute," Russo said as he strolled over to a nearby door. "I gotta take a squirt. Be right back."

"Uh, that's not the bath"- Phantasma was interrupted by the slam of the door.

Russo looked around at the large room he found himself in. It was completely decked out with Ancient Egyptian decor, complete with a sarcophagus in the corner of the room. "Jeez, this Grimwood chick must be loaded," he said. "If her commode's this ritzy, I can't wait to see what the rest of the place is like."

The sarcophagus opened, and out came another little girl, this one the youngest of the five. She was a mummy, covered head-to-toe in white bandages. She had bright blue eyes, and a pink bow rested atop her head. She yawned and rubbed the sleep from her eyes.

"Ah, jeez, sorry! Didn't know someone was in here!" Russo hurriedly flung the door open to see Miss Grimwood and the other four girls waiting.

"I see you've met the Mummy's daughter," Grimwood said. "Mr. Russo, this is Tanis."

"Is this the new teacher you were talking about, Miss Grimwood?" The mummy girl asked.

"Indeed he is," Sibella answered. "We haven't had new teachers here in a very long time, indeed."

"No wonder," Russo said. "Y'all don't even lock the doors to let someone know you're taking a shit! Teachers need their privacy -- believe me, I once walked in on my high school principal dropping acid in the locker room. Threatened to expel me if I told anyone. On a completely unrelated note, you don't test for drugs here, do ya?"

"Oh, such levity," Miss Grimwood said. "It's that lighthearted-yet-straightforward demeanor that's going to make you a wonderful example for my students."

"I take it the guys before me didn't work out too good," Russo said. "What happened to them? They get lost on a field trip to Silent Hill?"

"Your predecessors tried their best, but they always fell short," Miss Grimwood explained. "Our girls' academic performances have never been an issue, but one subject in particular has always come up short: physical education."

"Wait, really?" Russo tilted his head. "What's the issue there?"

"Every year, our rivals at the Calloway Academy beat us in the big volleyball game," Tanis explained. "To this day, I still don't have any trophies for my case."

Russo perked up when he heard the name. "Calloway Academy? You mean that candy-ass military school down the way? The one with the extensive history of students getting brought up on disciplinary charges for everything ranging from vandalism to manslaughter?"

"The very same," Phantasma said as she phased through an Egyptian statue. "We need a coach with enough _spirit_ to help us beat those creeps!"

"Nobody said _anything_ about taking on those psychopaths," Russo said with a devious smirk. "I'll admit, I had my reservations at first, but you girls have convinced me. Soon as possible, I'm gonna teach you everything you need to know to send those testosterone-fueled neanderthals running back to their mamas like the cowards they are!"

"I knew you'd help us out!" Winnie howled in delight.

"It's fang-tastic to have you with us," Sibella said.

"Yeah, this 'fang-tastic' thing," Russo said. "Are you just trying it out, or are we stuck with it?"

"Why don't we show you to your room now?" Miss Grimwood snapped her fingers, causing the disembodied hand to float towards her holding a key ring.

"A hand, huh?" Russo chuckled to himself. 'I'd make the obvious joke, but their are children present,' he thought to himself.

Soon enough, Russo was alone in his living quarters. "This is gonna be sick," he said as he looked in the mirror with a confident smile. "I get to shape the newest generation of monsters and give the finger to authority figures I have zero respect for all in one! The only problem is that I know literally nothing about teaching..." His face fell as he said those words. "Shit. This might not be so easy after all..."


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Russo's first day as a teacher doesn't go so well.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In this story, the Grimwood girls are all teenagers -- Tanis is 13 at the youngest, and Sibella at 17 is the oldest. As such, Russo's relentless profanity doesn't much faze them.

9 o'clock. The girls were seated at their desks as they patiently waited for their dear teacher to arrive.

"I hope you guys are as excited about Mr. Russo as I am," Tanis said, kicking her legs.

"I dunno," Winnie replied. "He looks legit, but we'll just have to se _HOWWWW_ it goes." The other students cringed at her howling.

"Say, where is he?" Phantasma looked at the clock. "You don't think he... _disappeared_ on us, do you?" To illustrate her point, she turned invisible.

As if on cue, Russo burst through the door, shotgunning a large can of Red Bull and reading from an old Anatomy textbook. "Sorry I'm late," he said quickly. "How anyone gets anything done at this ungodly hour is beyond me! Now, we'll start today's lessons with some basic anatomy: according to Von Steinmetz, the eminent physiologist, there is ever present a group of white phagocytes..."

Sibella raised her hand. "Mr. Russo, we don't learn human anatomy at this school."

"Darn, I like the phagocytes." Russo hastily tossed the book aside.

"We study things every ghoul and goblin of the night should know," the vampire explained. "Dark magic, weird science, that stuff. We also learn basic things like athletics, but that's considered secondary to our supernatural studies."

"Let's get this straight," Russo said. "Not only does this school consist of five students and only one teacher -- who apparently leaves every year -- but you don't even learn stuff everyone else does? What kind of cockamamie school board is running this show here? I mean, not that I'm complaining -- public schools are basically brainwashing facilities that teach you useless bullshit anyway, but it still throws me for a loop. Now, uh, what do you usually learn that this time of day?"

"We usually start off learning about hexes and curses," Elsa responded.

"Curses, eh?" Russo grinned. "Now _that_ I can help you with! I'm going to teach you girls the seven words that will be indispensable in your transitions into adulthood." He typed something into the computer on the desk in front of him, and the projector turned on, projecting onto the whiteboard seven words that can't be said on TV.

"Now, let's start with #1, shall we?" Russo pointed at the first word on the list. "On the surface, it has a very definitive and literal meaning, but as you'll see, it can be interpreted in a multitude of ways..."

For the next hour, the girls sat with rapt attention as Russo exhaustively explained to them all the various ways those words can be used as nouns, verbs, and in figures of speech, even using many personal examples that have played out throughout his life.

"... and when preceded with the word 'the,' it can also be used to describe something that is of exceptional quality," Russo said as he finished the seventh word. "Now, any questions?"

Tanis raised her hand. "How come you didn't talk about word number 4?"

"Because the last time I said that word in public, I got maced," Russo said. "Anyone else?"

Elsa raised her hand. "Isn't number 6 just number 3 with more syllables?"

"Well yeah, but if I take it out, it just messes up the whole rhythm." Russo shrugged before looking at the clock. "Hey, time for recess!" The girls stood up and left the room.

After half an hour had passed, the girls were back inside and met Mr. Russo in the gymnasium.

"Alright, now Grimwood told me I'm required to teach you girls how to dance," he told them. "I ain't happy about it either, but it ain't like I got a choice." He pressed "play" on the radio, and an 80s power pop anthem started blaring loud and clear. He then removed his heavy coat so he could move around easier. "Now watch carefully and do exactly like I do."

Before he could show them a single move, however, a tarantula descended from the ceiling above him and crept down the back of his jersey.

"HOLY FUCK!" He then started running about the room, screaming and flailing his arms.

"Oh, I get it now," Elsa said. She then started running around, screaming and flailing her arms just like Russo, and the rest of the girls followed suit.

"Fuck-fuck-fuck-fuck-fuck-fuck-FUCK!" Russo was now spinning around on the floor like a top, struggling desperately to find the spider as it crawled all over him. The students were happily copying him.

"He's combing dance lessons with his language lesson from earlier," Sibella observed. "Is there no end to his innovativeness?"

"GODDAMN IT _SHIT!_ " The teacher then ran towards the window, smashing through the glass and plummeting into the fountain below. He bolted out of the water, several piranha clinging to his flesh with his powerful jaws. The girls looked out the window and jumped down with him, but the carnivorous fish paid them no mind as they collided with the fountain below.

"Class dismissed for today," Russo said wearily as he stood up and started yanking fish off of him.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After a not-so-great first day on the job, Russo makes some acquaintances and enemies.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warining: intense violence and slurs in the later part of the chapter.

"I swear to God, they actually have live piranha in their fountains. Crazy, ain't it?"

Russo was sitting at a bar in New England, thinking about another beer. Specifically, as soon as he let out class for the day, he'd gone for a walk to clear his head only to happen upon a quaint little watering hole known only as "The Token," so named due to the numerous arcade games also found therein. He figured there'd be no harm in wetting his lips a bit; sure, it was a school night, but it was within walking distance from the school, and he didn't think he'd take that long. Plus, it actually took a lot for him to get truly intoxicated, so just a couple of Angry Orchards couldn't hurt, he thought.

"So, anyway, I just said 'class dismissed,' and now I'm here." He was telling his story to anyone within earshot, not caring that nobody actually seemed to be listening. "Hey Joaquin, how 'bout a fourth drink?"

Joaquin the bartender, a burly man with shoulder-length brunet hair, nodded with a wry smile. "You become a regular here, I might be able to put my kids in college."

Russo chuckled. "Don't doubt it." A freshly opened bottle slid down the mahogany countertop into Russo's hand, and he contently chugged down its contents. "So like I was saying..."

His thoughts were cut off when a bell rang, signifying a new patron had entered the establishment. They were roughly the same height as Russo, and had an androgynous beauty to them. They had a deeply tanned complexion, waist-length hair a swirling rainbow of colors, and an attractive, athletic figure with prominent curves. They also had differently-colored eyes -- the left one forest green, and the right one indigo. They wore a red turtleneck sweater, light purple jeggings, and black and white high-tops.

Joaquin gave a polite smile. "Good to see ya again. The usual, I presume?"

The customer sat at the bar right next to Russo. "Have I gotten _that_ predictable?" Their voice was neither completely masculine nor feminine, and carried a strong mid-Atlantic accent. "Thanks, Joaquin. The sooner I put this day behind me, the better."

Russo watched Joaquin prepare "the usual" for the patron; he recognized the ingredients as they were poured into the mixer.

"That's a White Russian, ain't it?" Russo smirked and looked at the other person. "Here I was thinking only me and Jeff Bridges ever drank those."

"Well, it's always been kinda my go-to," the other patron said. 

"I usually save it for celebrations or special occasions," Russo said. "And they don't come too often, as you can imagine."

"What's the matter with you, big boy?" They gave a grin as they grabbed the mixed drink and took a slow sip. "Your parents not get you that baseball glove you really wanted?"

"Huh. Parents. That's funny." Russo set down his beer. "The shit that's happened to me could fill a Lifetime movie-of-the-week."

"I highly doubt that," the other person said. "I've seen a couple of those movies. None of 'em have someone as cute as you in 'em."

"Well aren't you a flatterer?" He held out his hand. "Call me Russo. Everyone does."

"A pleasure to make your acquaintance, Mr. Everyone Does." They gently clasped his hand. "I'm Robin Ocasek. Before you ask: no, that's not my birth name, and yes, I chose the last name after the lead singer of The Cars."

"Aw shit, The Cars are like the greatest fucking band ever!" Russo laughed, the liquor in his system clearly having kicked in. "So, you work around here?"

"Ugh. Used to," Robin said with a roll of their eyes. "I worked for that Honda dealership down the block until some nutso burned it to the ground because he thought the giant inflatable gorilla on the roof was making fun of him. It's gonna be a son of a bitch to find any other place to work around here. How 'bout you?"

"Oh, well by some miracle, I've managed to get myself a spot as a teacher at Grimwood's Ghoul School down the way."

"Oh my God," Robin said enthusiastically. "I used to go there back in the day."

"No shit," Russo replied. "You don't look particularly ghoulish to me."

"Well, I'm a born magic user -- they called me a witch at the time, but whatever gender-neutral form that might have is more accurate -- and I studied there for a while until I got in major trouble and had to be transferred to Luna Nova Magical Academy instead," Robin explained.

"Damn," Russo said. "What'd you do to get kicked out?"

"Y'know that white-bred asshole Colonel Calloway at that dumbass military school?" They chuckled a bit as the memory came back to them. "Well, one night, I snuck over there and fed his pet horse a Dr. Pepper and some Viagra. Next thing I know, he damn thing is trying to fuck Colonel Calloway's car... _while he was still inside it!_ "

The two burst out laughing, and even Joaquin giggled a bit despite having heard the story many times before.

As soon as the laughter died down, Russo asked, "So you said you're a magic user?"

"Want me to prove it?" Robin gave a knowing look to Joaquin, who handed them three darts. Without looking around or changing their position at all except with a wave of their hand, Robin levitated the darts in the air and sent them flying, each one hitting the bullseye of the dartboard directly behind their head.

"Betcha I can do that," Russo replied. "Hey, Joaquin, mind setting me up over here?" The bartender complied and handed Russo three darts. "Now check this shit out!" He flung one dart behind him without looking.

"Ow, my eye!"

He flung the second dart.

"Ow, my crotch!"

He flung the third one.

"Ow, my basal ganglia!"

A look of horror appearing across their face, Robin quickly turned around and cast a healing spell on the unfortunate man before quickly erasing his memory of the incident. "Uh, how 'bout we try another game? One that doesn't involve metal spikes?"

Russo looked over to the _Marvel vs Capcom_ machine in the corner.

"Read my mind," Robin said with a grin.

The two proceeded to spend the next several hours playing on every arcade game in the establishment, impressing one another with their skills; Robin looked amazed at Russo's unique _CarnEvil_ strategy of using both guns and holding them sideways the entire time, and Russo watching with awe as Robin racked up point after point on _Revenge from Mars_. At some point between games they had even exchanged phone numbers. Neither of them kept track of time; Russo had first entered the Token at around 1 in the afternoon, but before he knew it, it was already sunset.

"This was great," Russo said. "Unfortunately, I can't burn the midnight oil like you. Got a whole generation to shape and all that."

"I get it," Robin said. "Call me and we can do this again sometime."

"I definitely will," Russo said. He counted himself lucky that the alcohol had long since worn off; otherwise, he probably would've blurted out how hot Robin was. Instead, he just waved a jaunty goodbye and said "Arrivaderci," trilling the r's as he did so.

Russo strode back toward Grimwood's school humming and singing along to "You Might Think" by The Cars as he did so. The way back to the school was marked by an endless sprawl of suburban neighborhoods before entering the school zone, and Russo had no reason to believe he should care that much about his surroundings; they were nothing out of the ordinary. No need to pay attention. Except...

As he was walking down a one-way street, he couldn't help but feel as if he were being followed. He looked behind him, and sure enough, there was a slate-gray Jeep Wrangler slowly trailing behind him. The vehicle sped up just enough to reach his position, only to slow back down to match his pace as the driver's side window rolled down. Russo was met with the sight one of the ugliest sons of bitches he's ever seen; a bald white guy with a bulging Adam's apple, a pointed nose, and ears that stuck out like the horns of a bull. He wore a gray sweatshirt and a camouflage cap with an American flag embroidered on the front. His cold blue eyes were giving the teacher a manic stare as his mouth curled into a perverse, mirthless smile.

"Hiya, buddy," the man in the Jeep said quickly and in a pseudo-friendly manner. "What's your name?"

"Uh, George," Russo said uneasily. No way was he giving his full name out to this creep.

"Where do you live?" The man's voice was more intense.

"I really don't think I should"-

The strange man interrupted him "I warned you three times to stay away from this neighborhood, Georgie." 

"The fuck are you talking about?" Russo gave the stranger a bewildered look. "I've never been here before, and thank God for that."

" _How'd you like **me** to come over to **your** neighborhood, huh?_" The man was now barking out his words like a rabid hyena.

"What's your fucking problem, asshole?" Russo's question went unanswered, as the weird man instead blared his horn. Realizing he was now in danger, Russo sprinted as fast as his legs could carry him, the Jeep following closely behind. Russo ran for several blocks, hoping to lose his pursuer, but no matter how many twists and turns he took, the car never lost him.

Russo had run into a more densely populated part of town, apartment buildings and stores lining the sides of the street. The man in the Jeep suddenly turned on his brights, and the reflection of the light in all the windows distracted Russo enough for him to trip in a pothole. He was sent sprawling onto the ground, and didn't even have time to get back up before the Jeep rammed into him and sent him flying backwards.

The strange man jumped out of his car and sprinted over to his injured victim. He straddled Russo and started squeezing his neck like a python. "This'll teach ya a lesson, you greasy little wop!" He laughed maniacally as Russo struggled to get free. "Now you'll have no _choice_ but to stay outta my neighborhood!"

Russo noticed that there was a cop standing across the street and watching this all unfold. The cop was tall and rail-thin with a pasty complexion, a shaved head, and a pair of aviator sunglasses. His name tag read "YORK."

"HELP"- Russo choked out as he gestured toward the police officer. "HELP ME!"

Sorry bro," Officer York said, his lips stained with chocolate frosting from a donut. "You gotta respect people's private property. You can't just go trespassing like that and not expect consequences."

"No one's gonna save ya," the man said. "Now you're gonna-ACK!" He suddenly found himself tightly constricted, bound by some strange force. He and Russo looked at the source of this: the Jeep, the driver's side door still open. Somehow, by some strange power, the car's seatbelts had extended out of the vehicle like an octopus' tentacles, lifting the man off Russo's barely-conscious body and wrapping themselves around the sadistic driver like a mummy's bandages. Said asshole suddenly found himself forcefully pulled back into his car, which took off at top speed all by itself and sped down the street before crashing into the back of a manure truck.

Russo groaned in pain as he stood up, holding his throat with one hand as he steadied himself with the other. "What the hell just happened?"

"You're welcome," intoned a familiar voice from a dark alley closely. Robin strode confidently forward from the shadows, their hands glowing with a crackling pink aura.

"Thank you for showing up," Russo said as he hobbled toward his friend. "A few more seconds and I'd probably have become that damn hillbilly's next family dinner."

"I couldn't just sit by and let you suffer like that," Robin said modestly. "Luckily, I live in a nearby apartment close enough for me to see what happened and pull your bacon outta the fire." They then glared at Officer York. "And speaking of pigs..."

The policeman panicked. "I'm calling for backup," he said as he moved toward his squad car on the other side of the street.

"Oh no you're not," Robin said. The cop car was immediately enveloped in the same magic aura Robin seemed to be exuding. They lifted their hand, causing the cruiser to levitate three meters into the air. Robin then balled their raised hand into a fist, causing the vehicle to crush into itself like a soda can before dropping back down. Officer York jumped back in horror as his precious car collided with the asphalt right next to him.

The policeman snarled. "You think your little parlor tricks scare me?" He pulled out his taser and started it up. "It'll take a lot more than that to keep me quiet you little freak of nature!" He charged toward the young magic user, who just gave him a bored look and snapped their fingers. Officer York disappeared in a puff of smoke, and in his place was a fire-bellied newt that quickly slithered away.

"He'll get better," Robin said. "At least I think he will. Speaking of getting better, you got banged up pretty bad back there. Why don't you come to my apartment so I can fix you right up?"

"Sounds good to me," Russo said as he tried to process everything that happened.

They made their way to Robin's apartment where their roommate, a petite young black woman by the name of Denise Harris, was sat on the couch playing _Fortnite_. She was in her early 20s, of average height, and had freckles on her nose. She wore a light blue sweater, a dark blue skirt, white knee socks and black shoes, and her hair was pulled into a tight bun.

"Denise, I just saved a hot guy from dying," Robin said casually. "I'll be in my room most of the night."

"Well look at you," Denise said as she paused her game. "Just lost your job and you're already bringing guys home? Told you you'd turn things around soon."

"Don't get any ideas," Robin replied with a smile. "I'm just gonna brew him up a healing potion. His injuries are far too complex for a simple healing spell to do the trick."

"Maybe I can help?" Denise stood up. "Potions were always my specialty."

"Thank you," Robin said. "Oh, by the way Russo, this is Denise. We went to Luna Nova together. Denise, this is Russo, the new teacher at Grimwood's."

"A pleasure," Russo said with as much of a flourish as he could muster given his extensive injuries.

"Likewise," Denise said. "Don't keep Robin up too late now." She gave a wink and a teasing laugh as the other two moved toward Robin's bedroom. 

"You really don't have to do this," Russo said as he slowly sat down on the queen-size bed.

"It's no trouble, really." Robin moved toward the door. "I like you a lot, and I can't just let those injuries get worse."

Russo smiled. "You're amazing, you know that? Just damn near perfect."

Robin hesitated in the doorway for a bit before rushing back toward the bed and giving Russo a passionate kiss on the lips. The kiss lasted for several seconds, the two leaning into it as it went on. They soon separated, blushing as they looked at each other.

"I'll uh..." Robin backed out the door, still blushing. "I'll just meet Denise in the kitchen and we can get that potion started, 'kay?" They then turned around and rushed down the hall, giggling to themselves all the while.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! Comments are greatly appreciated!


End file.
